She walked out of the hard, black shadow, she was grey. He looked down, amazed at what he saw. He was also grey, a symptom of this crazy world. He looked back up at her, saxophones playing in his head, and she just looked at him. She seemed to good to be true, an angel, or the devil, but she just looked at him, this dame, this goddess, this seductress, this broad, this enchantress, this girl he used to call his. She continued to look at him, like a shark before he strikes, this goddess, this seductress, this enchantress, this girl he now calls mistress. She spoke with the loveliness of god herself, and a ferocity like her wrath, "Come her Tim!" He obeyed fearing her wrath, and hoping for her mercy, this goddess, this devil, this dame to die for, this dame to kill for, this girl he now calls his world. She orders him to strip, he obeys, she orders him to go to her bed, he walks, she orders him to stay and be good, his mind never leaves the thought of staying. Tim stood there watching the clock, waiting for another chance to see his babe, his universe. She returns and orders him to lay down, she strips. Her dress dropped on the floor like water on a river, no like air on the feather. She stood there bare as the day she came out of her mother, saxes played in Tim's head. She rides him like the eagle rides the wind, like the cops ride Lola's criminal ass. Tim looks at Lola after she was done, waiting for his next order. Lola looked at him and just said, "Go. Find me something beautiful, as a token of your love." and he got out of bed, hoping to please her, this goddess, this dame to die for, this dame to kill for, this girl he now calls Ma'am.
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